


The Mysterious Murders - Chapter 1

by TheOtherMrDarcy



Series: The Mysterious Murders [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 08:57:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19903138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherMrDarcy/pseuds/TheOtherMrDarcy
Summary: This is my very first attempt at a fic. Please enjoy and let me know if you want more!





	The Mysterious Murders - Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first attempt at a fic. Please enjoy and let me know if you want more!

I looked out of my office window to see that for the third day in a row, London was under the cover of a thick fog. This was good for business at Saint Mungo's, for the fog kept wizards at home, but I fear if it keeps up those same wizards will soon get bored and work will pick up again. While thinking of those bored and dangerous wizards I found my mind wandering, not incorrectly, to thoughts of Sherlock. I hadn't heard from him in months, not since we saved Mycroft from an assassination attempt. Sherlock was prone to hiding, sulking if there was nothing around to keep him stimulated. It was reaching the point where I believed seeing Sherlock again was less likely than single-handedly finding the cure for dragon pox, but Sherlock was never one for meeting my expectations. 

Molly rolled in my first patient of the day, a sheet covering the patient’s head.  
“Morning John, a simple autopsy for you to start the day. Auror report says she had a run-in with a couple of pixies and her wand backfired.” 

Molly was the one that got me a job at Saint Mungo’s when work with Sherlock began to dry up. 

“Thanks, Molly” I yawned, but before I could finish my thought, a loud crack erupted throughout the room. Turning around, wands raised, Molly and I came face to face with none other than the elusive Sherlock Holmes. He stood in the doorway holding a deerstalker hat. 

“John, you’re a Muggle-born, I need your advice,” Sherlock said as he strode in the room lifting the hat to his head. “Does this make me look more like a Muggle? You know I’ve never had a grasp on their fashion and I need to blend in.”  
“You can’t be serious Sherlock,” I said, rather angrily 

“So that’s a no to the hat then?” Sherlock responded 

“You mean to tell me you disappear for 3 months, only to reappear to ask me for fashion advice?” 

“Yes, what part of this do you not understand?” Sherlock turned to address Molly. “Am I not being clear enough about the hat?” 

My frustration with Sherlock made me interrupt poor Molly before she could get a word in edgeways – she rarely got a word in when Sherlock was around. “Yes Sherlock the hat looks fantastic but I’m afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave, we are with a patient.” 

“I’m sure she doesn’t mind considering her current state, even with your skills John I doubt you can bring her back,” Sherlock said looking toward the body as he placed the deerstalker on his head. “Besides surely a murder case is more an Auror matter than a Healers.” 

“I’m sorry, but how could you possibly know that this is a murder case,” I said. “The Aurors have already deemed this to be a simple misfire.”  
“It is simplicity itself,” he said; “all you have to do is open your eyes and look. Her make-up had been done quite nicely, so we know she takes some pride in her appearance. So why would she leave the house in torn robes, and dirty fingernails?” 

Sherlock paused looking for an answer, when no-one volunteered he continued “She had an altercation, I have to assume with a man, and tried defending herself. Do we have her wand?” 

Without waiting for a response Sherlock picked up a small black bag that was used to store evidence. Reaching inside he took out an elm wand. 

“Prior Incantato” he stated, giving the wand a brief flick. A ghostly red bolt escaped from the tip of the want. “Stupefy, the stunning spell. Hardly a spell one would use on a casual outing, even if confronted by pixies as you claim she was. Not to mention the wand is made of elm; elm wands produce the fewest accidents so it is very unlikely this was a backfire.” 

I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his process of deduction. “When I hear you give your reasons,” I remarked, “the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously simple that I could easily do it myself, though I am constantly baffled until you explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are just as good as yours.”

“Your eyes might be as good as mine, but you don’t use them.” Sherlock explained, “You see but you don’t observe. In any case, how she died is not merely as exciting as figuring out why she died.”

“Surely how she died and why she died are, if not the same thing, closely related.” I said, trying to hold my own against Sherlock’s intellect, “She was murdered, no known enemies, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

“Wrong again John, she may have no known enemies, but also no next of kin, living amongst Muggles. She was a loner, the perfect victim for someone who wants to kill for the fun of it.” Sherlock said 

“And how could you possibly know all that?” I asked, frustration creeping into the edge of my words. 

“You told me she had no enemies, the rest is written on her patient report. Honestly, John, you need to learn to open your eyes and read once in a while.” Sherlock said, spinning on his heels and grabbing the patient report, flipping the page up looking for something. 

I stood silent for a moment, firsts opening and closing trying to think of a proper reply. As I opened my mouth to speak Sherlock looked up at Molly, who was motionless in the corner of the room and cut me off. “Where did you say the body was found?”

Molly shook herself back to life, “She was found under a bridge leading to her house.” 

Sherlock stepped toward the body, seemingly ignoring poor Molly. I stepped next to Sherlock hoping that by copying his movements I could see what he sees before he had the chance to explain it all. Clasping my hands behind my back like Sherlock I bent over the body but before I had a chance to react Sherlock ripped open the robes of the woman who lay before us; drew his wand - made from walnut wood – and barked “Revelio” 

Instantly the woman’s body began to shimmer then revealed several large gashes across her stomach as if a large animal had attacked her. 

“This is an animal attack Sherlock” I began to rationalize “That doesn’t indicate a murder”

“Not on its own” a smug grin flashed across Sherlock’s face as he began to explain. “But when combined with the rest of the evidence, someone was trying to cover their work. You are lucky I needed advice on my hat.”

I sat back on my stool trying to make sense of what Sherlock was suggesting as he stood smugly next to the body hands clasped behind his back waiting for me to ask what his final deduction was. Thankfully there was no need for me to give in to Sherlock; Molly did that for me. 

“So who do you think did it? Molly asked quietly, still frozen to her spot in the corner. 

“Oh, it’s not a who, my dear Molly, but a what,” Sherlock said, pausing to take a long sip from my coffee cup. Placing the coffee cup back on my desk Sherlock returned his gaze to his still captive audience “And what we are dealing with is a werewolf.”


End file.
